


Happier

by The_Emerald_Scribe



Category: Original Work
Genre: Emotional Hurt, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Prison, Sad, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:00:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26243068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Emerald_Scribe/pseuds/The_Emerald_Scribe
Summary: Writing prompt based on the song Happier by Marshmello.





	Happier

The glass is cold. The chair is cold. The table is cold. Her eyes…

She didn't look at me at first. I picked up the plastic receiver and put it to my ear. A fuzzy muffle came from the unanswered end. I coughed to clear my throat, testing to see if she could hear me. Her eyes sank lower to the table, her hand grabbed the phone too hard.

“So how was school?”

“It was okay,” she mumbled. Her eyes lifted a little higher at the question but I feared that the blankness in her face was worse than her not looking at all. 

“I heard you won the spelling bee?” I tested, trying to force an inch of positivity from my end to her’s. 

“I didn't win it Dad. I just went on to the school’s finals. I didn't make it past the third word.”

“Well that's still farther than what I would have gotten.” I offered a chuckle. She looked at the buttons of my shirt instead.

“How,” I hesitated, questioning my own question. “How was the move?”

Her mother’s brown eyes finally looked up to mine. “It was good. I like my room. We have a backyard.”

A smile stretched across my face but my heart froze for a second. I wasn’t included in her “we” anymore. 

“That’s, that's really good to hear kiddo.” Now it was my turn to dodge her eyes. “Hey would you mind letting me talk to Uncle Jerry for a second.” I pushed out my sentences fast, not trusting my voice to stay steady any longer.

Alice got up from the metal chair which made a hollow echo sound across the floor. My best friend took Alice’s place and scootched the chair back up to the desk. He lifted the other receiver to his ear and gave me a trustful sideways grin. 

“Well hey Max, you look like shit.”

I gave a half laugh. It wasn't much, but I felt a spark of happiness again. I haven't laughed since I got in here. 

“Thanks bud.” I leaned back in the metal chair and looked up at his face clearly through the glass. “Well, ya know what they say. You are what you eat. And the menu here has me questioning.”

Jerry sorted but I caught his eye drift above my right shoulder to where a guard stood by the door. “Glad to see your humor is still about you. I was afraid you’d go crazy the second you had to shave your head.”

I smiled faintly and the conversation drifted off. We sat in a silence for a few seconds just staring at each other, trying to understand how this happened. In all honesty, I wanted to punch through the glass and hug him. I wanted to cry with him. I wanted to beg for forgiveness face to face. 

Instead I asked, “Is she doing okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, she is.” Jerry nodded, taking a serious tone. “Don't let the kid fool ya, she beat out a lot of other kids in her grade to get that far in the spelling bee. You should be proud.”

“I'm always proud of her.” 

Another beat of silence followed. 

“Jerry, I think next week, don’t take her here.” My voice was smaller than what I expected. 

“Max, no. What are you saying?” Jerry inched closer to the glass his eyes steely and piercing daggers into my skull.

“I think it would be best if she had a break from me. To get situated with the move and new school. The drive down here takes what, an hour?” I crossed my arms and pulled my head down to the receiver. 

“I'm not doing that Max. Alice still needs her dad. Look, I've been taking pictures of all her school events, I even filmed her round at the spelling bee. When you get out we’ll-”

“NO.”

Jerry froze in his cold metal seat. I clenched my eyes shut and prayed that Alice didn't hear me. I swallowed before continuing. “When I get out, Alice will be in college. She didn’t need me. And she doesn't need me now. I'm not coming back when I get out.”

My best friend stayed quiet. “Look, you went through a rough patch. Mell died, it wasn't easy for you. I should have been there more. And I'm NOT excusing what happened. But there is rehab and programs you can be in.”

“I hit my daughter.” My voice was cold. Colder than the chair. Colder than the table. Colder than the glass between us. “I got drunk and I hurt my baby girl.” My voice cracked. Tears pulled at the back of my throat. I turned away before they could slip from my eyes. Jerry turned his head away from me, allowing the smallest bit of privacy. He nudged his fist at the bottom of the widow. I shrank father from the glass. 

“I just want her to be happier.” I breathed into the plastic phone. Between my broken voice and muffled sound I did it ever know if he heard me. 

“Okay.” Jerry took a breath. “Okay bud.” He stood up, pushing the metal chair away from him but held onto the receiver. “Don’t think this means you got out of me coming to see you.” He offered me a smile. Something reassuring for the next week, month, before we could see each other again. 

“Thank you.”

Jerry nodded, aware of how deep those words went. For every action since my mistake, he has helped me and cared for Alice. Thank you didn’t suffice, but it was all I could give back.

The receiver clicked back into place on the side panel. He waved goodbye through the glass and took Alice’s hand who was waiting patiently in a chair by the far wall. My eyes met hers again. She took her uncle's hand and turned away from me.

At their retreating backs I finally allowed myself to breathe. Hot angry tears streamed down my cheeks. My throat ached with pain and regret slashed holes in my stomach. The receiver returned to its perch harshly, early falling off from force. I punched the cold empty glass. The guard spoke to me but I didn't hear his words. I stood and followed him back to my cell without a word. 

I want her to be happier. To do that, I have to go. 

**Author's Note:**

> This work was not created with the intent to excuse or create sympathy for abusers, especially child abusers. I wrote this purely as a interesting writing project. The story is purely fictional and in no way a representation of an actual situation or people.


End file.
